


solo

by foreverstudent



Series: we two, begin (again) [5]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Changmin is a nervous baby, Chocolate 2020, Gen, Yunho is a supportive hyung, it should be illegal to call Changmin MAX
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverstudent/pseuds/foreverstudent
Summary: Yunho meets Changmin backstage before the Music Bank recording for MAX’s Chocolate. Changmin has some things on his mind.
Relationships: Jung Yunho & Shim Changmin, Jung Yunho/Shim Changmin
Series: we two, begin (again) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748920
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	solo

_MAX._ Yunho reads the English letters on the dressing room sign and shakes his head. The new company PR team seems hell-bent on making MAX Changmin’s artist name more than ever, but it’s never going to catch on. The fans find it ridiculous, and privately, Yunho thinks the same. It didn’t catch on then and it wouldn’t catch on now. Their four-syllable names are rarely used nowadays, relics of another time. They’re just TVXQ’s Yunho and Changmin now. Yunho likes the simplicity. 

“I told them not to write that,” a voice beside him groans, and Yunho turns to find a groggy Changmin beside him, still barely half-awake at 4am and dressed in simple jeans and a t-shirt. The hair and makeup noonas have yet to work their magic. 

“Good morning, Max,” Yunho teases, working through the _x_ sound. It doesn’t roll off his tongue as easily as _Changmin_ does. 

Changmin just rolls his eyes at him and pushes the door open, wordlessly accepting the iced americano that Yunho holds out to him. Yunho follows him inside and sits on the couch, while Changmin plops down in the makeup chair and waits for the production team to start fussing over him. 

“Shouldn’t you get changed?” Yunho asks. Changmin just waves a hand in the air. “Later,” he says. It’s just the two of them in the room, abnormally early even for a music show recording. “Noona’s running late and she has all my clothes,” Changmin says, sipping on the americano while texting. 

Yunho gets up and starts walking around the small dressing room, naturally restless even at 4 in the morning. Changmin’s eyes follow him in the mirror. 

“Hyuuung,” Changmin whines. “Please keep still. You’re making me dizzy.”

Yunho laughs and sits down again. “Nervous?” he asks nonchalantly. 

Changmin doesn’t answer, but he downs the americano all in one gulp and pivots to face Yunho. “Hyung,” Changmin says seriously. Yunho just nods at him to go on. 

“The stage — it’s too big.”

It takes all of Yunho’s wits to suppress the laughter that initially wants to come out. Music shows are notorious for their tiny studios. He doesn’t even know how Super Junior or EXO managed to fit _and_ perform. The two of them performed at _Nissan Stadium,_ and still managed to fill the stage. But Changmin is serious, groggy eyes suddenly wide-eyed and looking at him, and Yunho has another of those flashbacks to the baby Changmin trainee with big Bambi eyes. 

They’re in their 30s now, and Changmin hasn’t called himself the maknae in a long time. They’ve grown to fit beside each other as equals, as partners, as performers. And yet, sitting here pinned down by those big eyes, Yunho feels himself in the leader position again. So he becomes as serious as Changmin is. 

“Then go take over the stage, Changmin-ah,” Yunho tells him, leaning forward so that their foreheads almost touch. “It’s yours.”

Changmin takes a deep breath. “It’s just…I’ve never…I’ve never done this solo…it feels too much like…”

“But Changmin, you have done solo things many times,” Yunho says immediately, not really noticing that he had just cut the younger man off before he could finish. Changmin snaps his mouth shut and just looks away. 

“Those were different,” he says through gritted teeth. 

“Different how?” Yunho asks again, genuinely curious because he doesn’t quite get it. “You’ve done SM stations, collabs, singles, solos in our albums…”

“That’s not—never mind,” Changmin sighs, turning back around in frustration to face the mirror, eyes down. “Forget I said anything.”

Yunho is starting to get the impression that he has said or done something terribly wrong. His inner Changmin alarm starts going off. Silence reigns in the room as Yunho tries to backtrack nervously. 

“Changmin?” Yunho says, voice low. 

“I’m fine, hyung,” Changmin says quickly, turning back to his phone and not meeting Yunho’s eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not,” Yunho says, going for the straightforward approach because it’s the only weapon he has. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Changmin chuckles slightly, but Yunho still doesn’t feel at ease. 

“You’ll do great, Changmin-ah,” Yunho says finally, standing up and clapping a hand on Changmin’s shoulder, feeling the younger man jump a little in his seat at the sudden touch. “I’ve seen how you’ve worked hard for this album. Your taste in music is great, the dance choreography is amazing, and the fans already love your voice. You won’t be a rookie up there. You know exactly what you’re doing, and I have full faith in you,” Yunho smiles, looking at Changmin through the mirror. 

Changmin smiles shyly, because his Yunho-hyung is being sappy again and that has really been his default reaction for almost twenty years. 

They stay like that for a while, Yunho subconsciously kneading Changmin’s tense shoulders, Changmin’s eyes closed. After a few minutes, Yunho had thought the younger man had actually fallen asleep, but Changmin suddenly spoke. “Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“Do you—do you think a solo debut after seventeen years is ridiculous?” 

Yunho stops massaging Changmin’s shoulders and starts to think. “No,” he says finally. “I had mine just last year. You know the Super Junior members had theirs fairly recently too. It isn’t uncommon to wait for a while before having a solo debut, Changmin-ah,” Yunho answers gently. 

Changmin shakes his head, looking at his hyung through the mirror. “ _We_ really had to wait, though.”

Yunho stops, meets his dongsaeng’s eyes. Because it was true — they had spent _years_ after the split trying to keep TVXQ’s name alive as a duo.The timing was the question. Both of them knew that making a solo debut too soon after the split would cause questions. For TVXQ, for a name on its last lifeline, a solo debut was out of the question. 

“We did,” Yunho agrees. “I didn’t mind though,” he continues quickly, “those years with you, with TVXQ — they were the best. They still are,” he smiles, watching Changmin’s lips curl up slightly. “No solo debut could compare with that.”

Changmin meets his hyung’s eyes in the mirror, and Yunho thinks he finally gets it. “TVXQ will be just fine, Changdola. If anything, it’ll be better. Your stage will bring in new fans. I’m sure of it,” Yunho smiles reassuringly, now carding his fingers through Changmin’s unstyled hair. But then, he asks another question. 

“You didn’t have this worry when _I_ had a solo debut, Changmin-ah,” Yunho asks, walking through it in his head now because he realizes he is still slightly confused. 

“But you’re U-Know Yunho,” Changmin blurts out. “You always could’ve had a solo debut.”

Yunho narrows his eyes, because there is something very wrong in Changmin’s words, in the tone of voice he uses. “What do you mean?”

Changmin sighs, clearly at his wits’ end. “Hyung. Imagine, just for a second, what would have happened if the company didn’t choose to continue TVXQ as a duo.” 

Yunho stops running his hands through Changmin’s hair and sits down again on the couch. “What—“

“Just imagine, hyung,” Changmin continues patiently, swiveling around to face him again. “What if TVXQ had ended right then? What would have happened?”

Yunho sits, runs through a thousand and one scenarios in his head, feels the traces of fear in his younger self, and how infinitely grateful he is that he does not have to consider these now. They’re okay, they’ve survived. They have, in all senses of the word, made it. 

“I—I would’ve tried to continue,” Yunho says slowly, because there was never any other life for him. “I would’ve maybe tried to be a dance trainer, helping with the new recruits, or—“

“Or debut as a solo,” Changmin finishes for him, and Yunho just nods. “Maybe.”

Changmin nods his head in agreement. “I would’ve left,” he answers matter-of-factly, and Yunho winces, imagining, in that split-second, an idol life for him without Changmin by his side. “I never would have made it as a solo artist.”

Yunho’s eyes widen, because that was a lie. When the split happened, Changmin was speedily coming into his own as the group’s main vocalist. His dancing had been improving astronomically. Odds were, he would have made a great solo artist, even then. 

“Hyung, I—I can’t help but think I don’t deserve this. That I was never meant to be here. I meant it, you know,” Changmin says desperately, as Yunho suppresses a small smile at the pun on his name. Changmin doesn’t care, and goes right ahead. “What I said on variety shows. I never had to stand out when I was with you. I just had to stand beside you or follow. Why do you think I enlisted with you? I couldn’t stand the SM Town stage that year. Just me, _alone._ ”

“The articles separate MAX from TVXQ,” Changmin ends. “I hate it.” Yunho watches, unsure what to say. He never really cared what the media wrote about him when he made his solo debut. He was TVXQ’s Yunho making a solo album, that was it. But the words “solo debut” had apparently hit Changmin even harder than he thought. 

“Sorry,” Changmin apologizes suddenly, as though embarrassed by his outburst. “It’s probably the stress,” he says, offering a faint smile. “Maybe I’m not making any sense.”

Yunho waits a bit, tries to understand. The Changmin in front of him is infinitely talented, respected as an artist in his own right. TVXQ would be a fraction of what it is without Changmin. From what Yunho saw, Changmin had thoroughly enjoyed making this mini-album. In Yunho's eyes, Changmin is worth everything and more. And yet, he himself knew that insecurities — even with talent, respect, enjoyment, even after almost two decades — could always make themselves known. 

“Changminnie,” Yunho says gently, disturbed when the younger man ignores him and keeps staring at his hands. He reaches forward and lays a gentle hand on top of Changmin’s clenched fist. “You’re meant to be here. You _are._ Don’t let anyone — even yourself — tell you any different.”

It takes a beat before Changmin smiles again, tentatively, and Yunho is relieved beyond words. “Can I hug you now?” he asks teasingly, going in for it even without Changmin’s reply. 

Changmin just lets him, bringing his own arms up around his hyung, and Yunho feels Changmin smile against his shoulder. “Thanks, hyung,” Changmin whispers. 

“Come here,” Yunho gestures, and Changmin gets up to sit beside Yunho on the couch. “You’ve still got time, take a rest,” Yunho says gently, patting his own shoulder. Changmin doesn’t question it, leaning against Yunho and pulling up his long legs, trying to get comfortable on the small dressing room couch. The rest of the time is spent in comfortable silence. Yunho just lets him doze, humming a tune under his breath that lulls Changmin back to sleep despite the americano. It is still ridiculously early. 

* * *

The coordi noonas come in half an hour later laden with Changmin’s outfits and hair and makeup gear, cooing at the sight of Changmin slumped against his hyung. Yunho just grins at them and puts a finger to his lips. 

“Changdola, time to wake up,” he whispers softly, moving his shoulder a bit to wake his sleeping maknae. Changmin jerks awake and blinks his eyes open softly, and somehow, Yunho still can’t get over how _cute_ his maknae is, even past thirty. Smiling, he whispers, “the coordi noonas are here,” and Changmin gets up immediately, flustered, bowing to his team and quickly getting caught up in the pre-recording preparation rush. 

They take him to be changed and made up, and the next time Yunho sees him, he’s dressed as ChoiKang Changmin — or in this case, MAX. 

“Yahhh, you look good!” Yunho says, giving Changmin a thumbs up as the prod directors tell him he’s got five minutes before recording. 

“Are you watching?” Changmin says nervously, shaking his hands and jumping up and down to calm his nerves. Yunho stops, unsure of what to say. “Well, yes, but if you don’t want me to…” he trails off.

Changmin just looks at him like he’s being ridiculous and says, “Hyung! Of course you have to watch. You have to monitor and tell me everything I did wrong later." Yunho stops, because he's relatively sure there's nothing that will go wrong on that stage, not with Changmin's experience and eye for detail. He shakes his head. 

"No need," he says, outright refusing to find wrong in the performance that he's sure Changmin himself will scrutinize with more unforgiving eyes than anyone else. Changmin's eyes turn pleading. "Hyuuung..."

"No need," Yunho repeats. "You're already perfect, Changmin-ah."

Changmin blushes. "I haven't even gone up on stage yet," he mutters, suddenly shy. 

Yunho shakes his head. "I didn't say the _stage_ was perfect, Changminnie. I said _you_ were. Are. You're perfect to me and absolutely worthy of a hundred solo stages."

"Ah hyung, stop it," Changmin says, turning away to hide his smile, but Yunho can see it anyway. He chuckles, gently pushing his maknae towards the anxious prod directors who are close to dragging him away so they can finally shoot. "Go, make TVXQ proud," he says.

Changmin goes, but not before suddenly wrapping an arm around his hyung and whispering a quick "thank you," Yunho quickly reciprocating the embrace, and then they whisk him away. 

"You're welcome, Changdola," Yunho says to the empty air with a soft smile. He exits backstage and takes his own seat in the studio, blending in with the production staff, behind the fans who don't notice him at all, their eyes trained on the stage.

The directors call Changmin up, and he goes on stage. The lights dim, the fans scream, the music starts — and just like Yunho predicted, Changmin’s performance is _electrifying._

In the back, Yunho smiles and watches with fond tears in his eyes, as Changmin owns a stage that is all his own. 

**Author's Note:**

> Do yourselves a favor and stream CHOCOLATE !!!!


End file.
